-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джордж Мартин
-
- Битва королей
-
- Стр. 150/853
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Yet
he
saw
no
familiar
faces
,
no
honor
guard
waiting
to
escort
him
from
Lordsport
to
Pyke
,
only
smallfolk
going
about
their
small
business
.
Shorehands
rolled
casks
of
wine
off
the
Tyroshi
trader
,
fisherfolk
cried
the
day
’
s
catch
,
children
ran
and
played
.
A
priest
in
the
seawater
robes
of
the
Drowned
God
was
leading
a
pair
of
horses
along
the
pebbled
shore
,
while
above
him
a
slattern
leaned
out
a
window
in
the
inn
,
calling
out
to
some
passing
Ibbenese
sailors
.
A
handful
of
Lordsport
merchants
had
gathered
to
meet
the
ship
.
They
shouted
questions
as
the
Myraham
was
tying
up
.
"
We
’
re
out
of
Oldtown
,
"
the
captain
called
down
,
"
bearing
apples
and
oranges
,
wines
from
the
Arbor
,
feathers
from
the
Summer
Isles
.
I
have
pepper
,
woven
leathers
,
a
bolt
of
Myrish
lace
,
mirrors
for
milady
,
a
pair
of
Oldtown
woodharps
sweet
as
any
you
ever
heard
.
"
The
gangplank
descended
with
a
creak
and
a
thud
.
"
And
I
’
ve
brought
your
heir
back
to
you
.
"
The
Lordsport
men
gazed
on
Theon
with
blank
,
bovine
eyes
,
and
he
realized
that
they
did
not
know
who
he
was
.
It
made
him
angry
.
He
pressed
a
golden
dragon
into
the
captain
’
s
palm
.
"
Have
your
men
bring
my
things
.
"
Without
waiting
for
a
reply
,
he
strode
down
the
gangplank
.
"
Innkeeper
,
"
he
barked
,
"
I
require
a
horse
.
"
"
As
you
say
,
m
’
lord
,
"
the
man
responded
,
without
so
much
as
a
bow
.
He
had
forgotten
how
bold
the
ironborn
could
be
.
"
Happens
as
I
have
one
might
do
.
Where
would
you
be
riding
,
m
’
lord
?
"
"
Pyke
.
"
The
fool
still
did
not
know
him
.
He
should
have
worn
his
good
doublet
,
with
the
kraken
embroidered
on
the
breast
.
"
You
’
ll
want
to
be
off
soon
,
to
reach
Pyke
afore
dark
,
"
the
innkeeper
said
.
"
My
boy
will
go
with
you
and
show
you
the
way
.
"
"
Your
boy
will
not
be
needed
,
"
a
deep
voice
called
,
"
nor
your
horse
.
I
shall
see
my
nephew
back
to
his
father
’
s
house
.
"
The
speaker
was
the
priest
he
had
seen
leading
the
horses
along
the
shoreline
.
As
the
man
approached
,
the
smallfolk
bent
the
knee
,
and
Theon
heard
the
innkeeper
murmur
,
"
Damphair
.
"
Tall
and
thin
,
with
fierce
black
eyes
and
a
beak
of
a
nose
,
the
priest
was
garbed
in
mottled
robes
of
green
and
grey
and
blue
,
the
swirling
colors
of
the
Drowned
God
.
A
waterskin
hung
under
his
arm
on
a
leather
strap
,
and
ropes
of
dried
seaweed
were
braided
through
his
waist
-
long
black
hair
and
untrimmed
beard
.
